Chapter Eleven

Water rushing in the river filled Malcolm’s ears. Occasionally another sound penetrated—the call of a bird or a rustling in the leaves made by a Sitka blacktail deer—but there was not a trace of another human being. In their chosen spot along the river, he and Karissa were completely alone.

The sky overhead was a bright, perfect blue, the kind of blue Malcolm liked to film before launching into a less pleasant aspect of nature in one of his documentaries. The blue stretched as far as he could see, until the green trees blocked the view.

Karissa gave a deep, throaty laugh, and Malcolm found it irresistible. It was as far removed from her tight, quick laughter of late as Kodiak was from her hometown in California. Knowing her so well, he recognized that the laugh signaled her happiness, deep in the essence of her soul. She’d laughed that way once, long ago. When had it stopped? And why hadn’t he noticed when it had stopped?

Hooking his pole between two stones, he left his line dangling in the river and went to sit beside her on a large rock in the shade. The love in his heart had never been so strong; it seemed to even stem his desire to smoke. He was down to less than half a pack a day now and beginning to feel hopeful about quitting altogether. What a wonderful surprise for his precious wife.

“Hey, I thought we were trying to fish here,” she protested weakly as he put a casual arm around her. In her slender hands she held his best fishing rod.

“We’ve done enough fishing.” Today was Saturday, the last of their five days of vacation at Kalsin Bay. All week they had sailed, hiked, fished, or just sat together. Karissa had laughed at his jokes, had made a few of her own, and not once had either brought up his smoking or their possible separation. At times, Malcolm was sure there was love in her emerald eyes. But there was something else too, a hidden mystery in the way she acted, seemingly emphasized by the hollows in her cheeks. What could it be? She was quieter than usual, and several times he had caught her gazing off into nothingness, as if deep in reflective thought. When he called her back, she stared at him in a sort of haunted fear. Was he only imagining it? When he tried to probe, she would become remote and almost hostile, so he backed off. What else could he do? He couldn’t force her to share her feelings. He’d have to wait until she was ready to broach the subject on her own.

“Stop jerking my line,” she said.

“I’m not—” He broke off, seeing the way her line bent toward the water. “Uh-oh, it’s a big one.”

“Good!” Karissa jumped up from the rock, her ponytail swinging. Her long legs were tanned from a week of wearing cut-off Levis, and her face and arms were also kissed to a tawny brown by the ever-present sun. Malcolm thought the color looked good on her.

“Now pull back gently. Don’t let the line snap.” He wiped the sweat from his hands onto his shorts.

“I know, I know.” The lean muscles in her arm flexed as she pulled back. “Oh, no! He won’t come.”

“Give him some line.”

Karissa did as he directed, her smooth face scrunched with concentration. Minute beads of sweat appeared across her hatless brow.

“Now try to reel him in. Slowly . . . slowly. Why’d ya stop?” he asked.

“My cheek itches.” She grinned at him.

“Here, give it to me.”

She held the rod out of his reach. “Oh, no. This baby’s mine. I’m going to win our bet. A week of back rubs is almost mine.”

From the angle of the line, Malcolm knew she was probably right. “What about your cheek?”

“You scratch it. Right here, under my eye.” She moved her right cheek to show him.

“Do you know how funny you look?”

“Scratch it,” she ordered. So he did. “Thanks.” She began to reel in the fish again.

“Not too fast,” he warned.

“Who’s got this fish, you or me?”

Malcolm laughed. Karissa had taken to fishing better than anyone he’d ever seen. She remembered what he told her and followed his advice exactly. Why hadn’t he taken her years ago?

“There he comes,” she said triumphantly. Malcolm could tell by the size that it outweighed his biggest catch of the week by at least ten pounds.

“It’s heavy,” she said.

“Can I help?”

She looked at him. “I still get the back rubs?”

Malcolm grinned. “You caught him.” She nodded her consent, and he waded into the river to heft the fish. The water felt cool against his bare legs. “This’ll feed an army.”

Karissa watched him from the side. “I think we’re going to need it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I might be pregnant.” Her green eyes glittered.

He stared at her, as though frozen in the water, too hopeful for words. And he also felt a relief; perhaps this explained the secret he sensed in her manner. Maybe now she would open up her heart to him.

“I took a blood test Monday at the hospital. It was positive. But I still have to take another test to make sure my body knows how to keep it.”

Malcolm finally found his tongue. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He wanted to drop the fish and go to her, but he wasn’t sure what her waiting meant.

She looked down at the fish, then back to his face. “I wanted to be sure, that’s all. About us.”

“So did you find something about me to love?” he asked casually. Too casually. Both knew how important the answer was.

Karissa regarded him without speaking for what seemed an eternity, as if she weighed and measured him with her eyes. It occurred to him that he could choose to be offended, but he thrust the emotion away. At this moment, games or hurt feelings didn’t matter. At least she was committed to making things work—for now.

She continued to study him. Suddenly the fishy smell of the salmon in his arms reached his nose, and he felt unclean and completely self-conscious under Karissa’s penetrating gaze. A flush rose in his face, and it took great effort not to look away.

“I love the way you fish,” she said. The words were measured like her stare, her voice serious. “I love the way you taught me to fish. I love your talent of making things out of wood. I love the way you are with Brionney’s girls, and I love the way you’re looking at me right now.”

“But do you love me?”

She gazed at him blankly, as if not understanding the question. “You are all these things, and I love them.”

Malcolm hesitated. Women liked to complicate matters. A man either loved a woman with his whole heart, or he didn’t. At times he might not think about the love, but it was always there, sometimes blazing, sometimes banked like a fire in the night. To a woman, there were shades between love and hate. He didn’t understand it, but there it was.

She saw his confusion. “I do love you, Malcolm.”

He stepped out of the water, dropped the fish on the ground, and hugged her. She hugged him back, laughing the throaty laugh again, and he laughed with her. He felt like dancing, like shouting his joy to the wind so it could be carried to the entire world. His wife, this beautiful, pure woman loved him—or at least parts of him—and was going to have his baby!

“Your mother was right,” Karissa whispered. “I made my body healthy, and . . . and . . .” She didn’t need to say more.

Maybe his mother had been right. Malcolm’s own diet had changed, and his smoking was reduced by half. Who knew what result that might have produced? But one thing was certain: his mother would be overjoyed at the prospect of another grandchild. He would call her as soon as possible.

* * * * *

They took a boat back to the city of Kodiak, where they picked up Karissa’s Nissan. He wanted to drive, but she wouldn’t let him. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid,” she said. She smiled at him, a wide, happy smile. Malcolm knew he wore the same dumb grin on his own face, but he didn’t care. He almost couldn’t wait to get home to tell Jesse, Brionney, and the girls.

In the end, their news had to wait. At home they found Delinda Goodrich with three frightened little girls. Savannah and Camille had tears streaked on their faces, and their dinner sat on the bar before them, untouched. Rosalie had laid her head on her arms, refusing to look at Sister Goodrich or at her sisters. When the older girls saw Malcolm and Karissa, they bounced from their chairs, talking all at once. Malcolm glanced at Delinda, trying to make sense of the jumble.

“Brionney went to the hospital.” Delinda’s blunt, muscled hand fingered the thick gold chain at her neck. On her fingers she wore three expensive-looking rings. “She had her doctor’s appointment yesterday, and he thought there was something unusual; he didn’t say what. He ordered an ultrasound, but Brionney didn’t want to have it alone. They decided to do it on Monday so Jesse could be with her. Only this afternoon she started having contractions, and she was convinced her labor had started.”

The color drained from Karissa’s face. “Poor Brionney.”

“I’m sure she’s all right,” Delinda said. “She’s just nervous because of what the doctor said. That’s what brought this all on. She should have had the ultrasound yesterday to put her mind at ease. We all need to—”

“She lost a baby before,” Karissa said, cutting off Delinda’s babble. Malcolm saw the visiting teacher’s eyes widen. He, too, was surprised; Jesse had never told him.

“Can we go see them?” Savannah said.

“Can we?” Camille echoed. Rosalie gave a loud sniff and gazed up at them beseechingly.

Karissa’s eyes met Malcolm’s. He nodded. “Let’s all go.”

“Thank you for coming out, Delinda,” Karissa said. “We appreciate it.” Malcolm knew she didn’t like Delinda, but the words sounded sincere.

“Well, I’m Brionney’s visiting teacher now too,” the woman answered. “For as long as they’re here. I was only too glad I could come and stay with the girls.”

“Pile in the Jeep,” Malcolm said. “Let’s go see what’s what.” The girls cast grateful looks at him.

“Shoes first,” Karissa said. “We’ll need to go inside.”

The shoe hunt began. Finally, Delinda found Rosalie’s last shoe under the sofa in the living room. “I’m good at finding things,” she said with a smile. “I’ve had a lot of practice with my brood.”

Rosalie took the shoe and shoved it on her foot. “I all ready.”

“So you are,” Malcolm said, picking up the little girl. She snuggled into him, reminding him of Karissa and his own growing baby. Already the great news had become a part of him, had changed him somehow.

“I hope the baby’s all right,” Savannah said.

He did too.

* * * * *

It was like a recurring dream from which Brionney couldn’t escape. Memories boiled to the surface until she couldn’t separate the past from the present. She clung to Jesse’s hand so tightly her fingers turned white.

“The bleeding could be because of your appointment yesterday,” said Dr. Fairfax, the doctor on call. He was a young man in his mid-thirties with a quick smile, kind brown eyes, and dark hair. His body leaned toward heaviness around the middle, and he wore green tennis shoes and jeans under his white coat. “Did your doctor check you?”

“Yes, he was concerned about something. He didn’t say what.”

“I don’t see any signs of labor.” As Dr. Fairfax spoke the reassuring words, he spread a cold, clear jelly on Brionney’s bare stomach. The baby inside her moved away from the cold. The movements at least were comforting.

“According to your records, the reason your doctor wanted the ultrasound is because you are measuring too large for how far along you are. That could mean problems, but it’s just as likely nothing. There could be a multitude of meanings.”

“Why didn’t he tell her that?” Jesse’s face was tense, his dark eyes brooding. Brionney knew he was worried.

“I should have asked,” Brionney said.

Jesse shook his head. “He should have told you. Imagine, letting you go home as worried as you were. I think it’s about time we got a new doctor.”

Dr. Fairfax didn’t give any sign of hearing their conversation. He rubbed the jelly around with the flat edge of the ultrasound wand that was connected to the monitor by a thin cord. “Uh-huh,” he said after a few moments. “Oh, I see.”

“What is it?” Brionney glanced from the monitor to the doctor’s face, then back again. She stared at the image on the screen. When she had been pregnant with Rosalie, her doctor had taken a lot of time to explain the ultrasound, and the picture didn’t look the same as it had then.

“I see what’s going on,” the doctor said. “You’re going to have twins.”

The relief and shock hit at the same time. Brionney felt her eyes widen. She looked at Jesse. “We’re finally having them.”

Dr. Fairfax looked puzzled. “You expected this?”

“No,” Brionney said at the same time Jesse said, “Sort of.”

“They’re boys, aren’t they,” Brionney said. It wasn’t a question. She already knew that they would have Camille’s brown, blue-tinged eyes and dark-brown hair.

“Yes,” the doctor said after a minute. “By the look of the placenta, there’s a high probability that they’re identical twins, and I can see that the one over here on the left is a boy. The other is turned so I can’t see, but if they’re identical, he’ll be a boy too. There he goes. He turned. See?”

“They’re not in the same sac, are they?” Brionney asked anxiously.

“No. I can see the division pretty clearly.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you deliver twins?”

“Of course.”

Brionney looked at Jesse, and he nodded. “We want you to be our doctor, then,” she said. “We want to know what’s going on, with nothing hidden.”

“All right,” said Dr. Fairfax. He wiped most of the jelly off Brionney’s belly, gave her a cloth to clean it better, and retreated to the far side of the small room.

Jesse helped her sit up. His face could hardly contain his happiness. “I can’t believe it,” he muttered.

Neither could Brionney, yet they were going to have their twins. How or why was not important. The Lord had been so good to them.

Another thought forced its way abruptly into Brionney’s mind. “Why now? I didn’t think I could handle even one more right now.”

Jesse fell silent. She could feel his eyes boring into her. “Are you sorry?”

She paused for a long time before answering. “No, but I am glad you’re doing all the diapers for the first two weeks. You’d better clear your schedule. You’re going to be awfully busy.”